Million Dollar Devil

6.

I spin around in my white leather chair, trying to pass the time until Mr. Hayes leaves and I can sneak out without having to face him. It has been an hour since our last interaction, and his office has been eerily quiet since. No keyboard clicks or phone calls. My chest is itchy and warm, and my shirt is soaking wet. I sit here uncomfortably, waiting out what feels like a prison sentence. I keep replaying Mr. Hayes's booming voice in my head, and I can almost see the flames in his eyes for a split second. I contemplate the fact that there is a possibility tonight will be my last night at AKMO. My heart sinks at the thought.

If today isn't my last day, I need to do a much better job flying under the radar in the future. There will be no more going out of my way to impress Mr. Hayes; it clearly isn't his style. Keep quiet and do what I'm told. That's my new motto. I don't need to know Mr. Hayes or woo him with my personal assistant skills; I just need to get the job done and go home. I wanted a 9-to-5 job, and I got one, so now I can't screw it up.

Knock! Knock!

I wince at the sound, my heartbeat speeding up at the thought of having to face Mr. Hayes.

"Door is open!" I say reluctantly. The door gently opens. A man in a black suit and white collared shirt stands there with a bag in his hand and an ice pack in the other.

"Ms. Wright?" He looks at me with an almost goofy smile.

"Yes, that's me," I stand up, approaching him with my hand outstretched.

"Jackson," he says as he shakes my hand, "Mr. Hayes asked me to drop these off with you." He places the bag on my desk and hands me the ice pack.

"Oh," I stutter in surprise, eager to see what is inside, "Thank you, I appreciate it."

"Today your first day?" he asks, surprising me with his conversational friendliness and curiosity. His boyish curly hair is unruly, a stark contrast with his perfectly pressed suit. His blue eyes hold more life than anyone I've seen at AKMO. There is something childish but charming about him. He is handsome, really handsome. It seems like every man at AKMO is.

"Yeah," I say, shrugging my shoulders in response and looking down at my stained shirt and red, blistered chest. Overwhelmed by the irony of my very horrible first day, a stifled laugh slips out of my mouth. He laughs in response, almost melting the ball of tension that has built up in my shoulders over the last hour.

"Don't worry, we all have days like this. Only difference is, most of us don't have to deal with Leo on those days," he smirks. I ponder the depth of their relationship.

"How do you know Mr. Hayes?" I ask, "That's too nice of a suit to just be his errand boy."

"Jackson Pike. CFO of AKMO and still somehow Leo's errand boy," he throws another one of what seems to be his signature smirks. It is charming, I can't deny it. I thought Kyle was the AKMO ladies' man, but I might have been wrong. Jackson is sure giving him a run for his money.

"Mr. Hayes' overqualified errand boy and his negligent personal assistant. What a pair we make, huh?" I say sarcastically.

"Don't be hard on yourself," he smiles reassuringly, "You spilled some coffee, so what? Leo just has a temper sometimes. If he didn't like you, you'd be fired by now, trust me."

His words echo in my head. How many personal assistants has he gone through? What happened to the last one? The way Jackson puts it makes it seem like working for Mr. Hayes is like walking on thin ice. Still, it is oddly reassuring to hear that there is a chance Mr. Hayes isn't completely unsatisfied with me. The words "like you" play in my head a few times before I force myself to let it go.

"I appreciate your encouragement. It is just a rough way to start things off, I guess," I give him my best smile, but it doesn't reach my eyes.

"Hang in there, Lil. I promise Leo's not a bad guy. Ice your chest. I'll see you around," he throws me one last sparkling smile before exiting my office. I quickly place the ice pack on my desk and open the paper bag in front of me. Inside is a beautiful white satin top, not unlike the one I am wearing but clearly triple the price. I stand there in shock.

I need to say thank you, but first I need to work up the courage. I poke my head outside my office, hoping to get a glimpse of Mr. Hayes. The brown leather chair at his desk sits empty; he is out of sight. I check his calendar; he isn't in a meeting, which means he has likely already gone home.

I open my laptop and begin to draft an email:

Mr. Hayes,

I apologize for the incident that occurs earlier. Thank you for the new shirt, though it is incredibly unnecessary.

See you tomorrow,
Lillian Wright

I press send before packing up my things and heading home to kill a few hours before a night at Lilacs.

...

"Oh my gosh! Mama, what happens to your chest?" Dominque gasps the minute I walk into the back room. The blister has enlarged and grown increasingly disgusting over the last few hours. I have rubbed ointment on it, but it doesn't seem to bring down the inflammation. The last thing I need is Alex seeing this; we are the merchandise he is selling and he isn't so fond of damaged goods.

"I have my first day today, and as you can see... it is fantastic," I sigh, gesturing to my blistered chest. She looks me up and down before opening a dresser drawer and digging through a pile of clothes.

"Got it!" She exclaims as she pulls out a black latex halter top and throws it to me, "Put this on, it will cover the blisters and keep Alex off your ass." I smile at her in response, thankful for her kindness.

She eyes me curiously, "Tell me everything," she pats the chair next to her and I oblige.

"There isn't much to tell. I spill coffee on myself after Mr. Hayes tells me not to get him coffee and I do it anyway," I sigh, "I know it doesn't seem like a big deal, but you should see him. He is pissed, I swear his pupils go red." I wince at the thought of his booming voice, my burning chest, and utter humiliation. I have never liked being yelled at. As much as I like to think I have tough skin, I don't. I'm a people pleaser, and when people aren't pleased, I'm not either.

"So you upset Mr. Sexy and now you feel bad?" She says simply. I nod in response, feeling stupid when she puts it in those simple terms.

"Did he fire you?" Dominque asks.

"No, worse. He sends some other cute guy to drop off a new shirt for me since I stain my own," I almost laugh at the words as they come out of my mouth. It is all so weird.

"Babe," she rolls her eyes with laughter, "You've already got him wrapped around your finger," she points at me, moving her pointer finger in a circle in my direction.

"No, that isn't it," I say firmly, "He just feels bad I hurt myself trying to get his coffee."

"I can't with you right now," she waves me off with a smile, "Take your cute little ass to the stage please."